


Aestheria

by Asriel



Category: K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst, Based on Neil Gaiman's The Sandman, Dreamwalking, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, Supernatural Elements, VIXX Ensemble - Freeform, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24492697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asriel/pseuds/Asriel
Summary: Hakyeon is a somewhat vampire, an enforcer, someone responsible for maintaining the boundaries between humans and creatures of the night just like him. From according to the rules imposed by the Court of the Night , this hidden world must be hidden from humans at all costs. But one day, he comes up to someone, Taekwoon, who looks like a lost lover from centuries ago.
Relationships: Cha Hakyeon | N & Jung Taekwoon | Leo, Kim Wonshik | Ravi/Lee Jaehwan | Ken
Kudos: 7





	1. Snowfall (but the fate fall over us too)

The snowflakes fell from a cloudy, dark sky, painted with the colour of lead-grey that covered the streets with a soft and light layer indicating that the winter had arrived officially. Footprints of all types and sizes were seen on the asphalt: Big footprints. Small footprints. Some dog's footprints.

Hakyeon was following the path of many. It was past midnight and the streets should be deserted. _“Soon the footsteps will disappear under a new layer of snow”_ , Hakyeon thought. In his hand, a dagger burning in a silver light like the moon that was hidden behind in the clouds, just like the colour of his hair. This was the only source of heat beyond his long, heavy black coat that gathered snow beneath his shoulders and, of course, his anger against Jaehwan. Well, this one resting below – the last item- on the small list of things to hate, maybe because Jaehwan was a ray of sunshine, and it was almost impossible to get angry at him (mostly).

He should know. Hakyeon should know obviously. When Jaehwan displayed that innocent smile before he begins to explain the work, he should know very well what would come. _Something simple_ , he said. Hakyeon cursed Jaehwan mentally when a chill from the cold went through his body because this _bloody damned work_ was taking longer than he and Jaehwan - in his mania to simplify things - had thought. So here he was, trapped in the hunt for an evil spirit that was going around, and he had spent the last two hours looking for any sign that would indicate the presence of such a spirit simply to encounter only cold and snow. All he wanted right now was to go home, take a hot shower and crawl under his warm sheets sleeping until Jaehwan come in and declare him in some weird coma. Originally, he was supposed to spend the night trying to deliver some dream to someone who needed or hunting some _Nightmare_ but Jaehwan, in his way of convincing anyone, involving fingers sliding over his lips and a smile brighter than a ray of sun followed by a cute pout, Hakyeon changed the idea faster than he could imagine. So here he was.

The cold wind ran through the silver-haired strands pulling them away from his forehead and making the ends of his cloak fly. The snow whirled about him almost supernaturally, as if some kind of aura made the snowflakes float around his feet before simply fell on the ground. He put a hand on his shoulders, cleaned the excess of snow before putting his hand in his pocket, fingers curled around the hem of the dagger, took a long breath and walked over to the Mapo Bridge.

Arriving there, everything became a hell. He felt the change in the air, but it took him a while to realize that he was not alone. The spirit was there and about to make someone else follow the same path that so many others did on that bridge: the vertical path of falling toward the icy waters of the river below. Quickly, he emerged next to the spirit in a blink, the dagger in a long blow lighting the night in a bow, the snow falling slightly blurring the sight of him. The human about to jump off the bridge was standing in a trance, motionless, while there, on the near corner of its body, inches from its shadow, Hakyeon and the spirit confronted each other.

"Do you know how long it took to find you? Two hours!", Hakyeon said quietly as a smile touched his lips. "But it will take a few minutes to take care of you."

Hakyeon was wrong. If on account of his ego or lack of ability, he had underestimated the number of minutes needed to finish off the demon, who after exchanging a few blows just squeaked at him like a snake about to hit a prey. Taking a few unbalanced steps as he moved away from the spirit, he made a sound with the tip of his tongue, staring at the wound on his shoulder and the rip in his coat. _“Oh great!”_ Hakyeon thought, “ _just what I needed today, my coat torn_ ”. Angry, he just stared at the spirit that faded to ashes and returned the look. _One step._

_Two steps._

Shrieking loudly no more different than a banshee, the spirit tried its last final card before Hakyeon could finish it.

Hakyeon looked around for him only to see that the human had come out of his trance, looked up vacantly and climbed the small grate of the bridge. He cursed himself as soon as the conclusion of what had happened struck him, for having let the spirit possess the human and forcing him to jump off the bridge. Quickly he took a few steps closer and when he was about to hold it, the human jumped. Hakyeon slid his arms along the grate, holding him by the wrist and looking at him with wide eyes, a long sigh escaping his lips. The human, or rather the spirit. just raised his face to watch him with a cynical smile. The silent words escaped his lips in a sweet, soft voice that most reminded Hakyeon of a whisper.

"You come with me."

The next sound they both heard was the sound of their scream cutting through the air. The river below, at that time of year, was covered by a thin layer of ice, and both sooner or later would drown to death if they didn’t escape soon. Technically, the variables regarding Hakyeon's drowning or dying were more complicated than the words he could get to try to explain in five minute more or less.

Because of his essence and accords regards the Court, Hakyeon couldn’t allow a human to die without him being able to do something to prevent it, especially if death was caused by his mistake. It was his fault for underestimate a spirit. In those few thousandths of a second from the fall, Hakyeon hit the human - and consequently the spirit - with the dagger right in his heart. The human’s lips parted in a silent cry, his eyes, once vague, came alive and the colour returned, startled as he looked at Hakyeon's face and the sky above him like a huge abyss.

Hakyeon pulled his body close to him. His hair lit up in a faint silver light before the water and the biting cold hit both like little swords on their skin.

****

_In the water._

Maybe that was the first thing he could remember.

He was...

Drowning. Yes, in the water and an immense sense of emptiness.

And then ... He was lying down, staring up at the sky with eyes full of knowledge that were disguised as mere misery. The galaxies weren't in the night sky, bright as they should be. They were inside a pair of eyes that stared at him. Taekwoon never imagined that he could find the beauty this way, in the mist that caressed his skin in brief sighs as the snowflakes touched him and melted. One blink, two blinks later, he realized he was falling.

Taekwoon tried to scream and only the silence left his lips in the form of a small cloud of smoke. He closed his eyes, a tear ran down his cheek and he hoped that if he was dying he could avoid that so-called life’s flashback before his eyes. He had lost too much to have to see everything again.

Taekwoon saw a light shining through his closed eyes when the water hit him and then the darkness hit him along with the cold ... And the warmth of someone hugging him. When he opened his eyes again, in a dazed sense of detachment from reality, he saw the former face above him, arms on his shoulders, blood dripping from a wound on his shoulder and a cut on his forehead, a fierce shiver tearing through his body. which made him clap his teeth. Eyes wide and pleading. The one staring at him was soaking wet and freezing. Not unlike him.

His damp, shiny silver hair fell over her face above his eyes, sticking to his forehead. Taekwoon's vision lost focus for a few seconds while the other spoke something before focusing on him again. Taekwoon tried to pay attention to those eyes shining with the light of an infinity white and shimmering stars, his disordered white hair on gentle brows. In the smile relieved.

"You're alive," the soft voice spoke and Taekwoon swore he could get the peace he sought just by hearing that voice ... He closed his eyes and opened it again.

There was not a face staring at him, but a beautiful ceiling with thick wooden beams and a lamp. Rubbing her eyes trying to shake the confusion out of his mind, Taekwoon tried to sort out the questions that popped into her mind. Where was he and how did he come here? What time was it and where was this place? Taekwoon stretched as he looked around. The place was cosy, decorated in an old fashioned way, beautiful and out of time. The questions seemed to get lost as the scent of the scented candles reached his nose, along with his attention that he turned to a small note pinned above the bedside table, written in beautiful handwriting.

_I'm sorry about last night. Your clothes were wet so I asked for help to change them since you could catch some cold. There are few others in the closet. There are also clean towels in the bathroom and other things if you want a bath. I'm in the room, so if you want something to eat, just go downstairs and I can help._

_C.H.Y._

Setting the note aside, he looked at himself in a mirror on the wall and gave a small sigh before his reflection. He was a mess. Fleeing towards the bathroom, he dressed reasonably and headed downstairs.

As Taekwoon descended the steps, the conversation between two people became more and more clear to hear. His ears were captured by the sounds of the voices: one he recognized as that one which stepped out of his dreams. The second he hadn’t heard before, but he wouldn't mind knowing who the owner of that voice was and listen forever.

"... Do you want me to erase all the threads crossed with you?", The unknown voice asked in a spoiled way.

"No." A pause. "Jaehwan, I saw him. I saw something on it. I want you to see this. "

"As well?"

Taekwoon stood at the end of the steps and looked at the two whose attention turned to watch him as soon as the matter escaped Hakyeon lips.

Jaehwan was sitting with his foot resting on the long dining table. His blond hair was tidy back, his fingers carrying two silver rings that insisted on sliding over his lips as his eyes scrutinized him.

Hakyeon looked up at his face.

" _Death. I saw Death._ "


	2. Towards the future (or the next coffee)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakyeon and Taekwoon talk about what happened last night, enters Jaehwan being as the jackass one who knows everything but won't tell anything about it and we go to one of Night Court meetings...

FINGERS against the table dictate a rhythm along with the sound of cutlery, the hushed whispers coming from few people at the place with the muffled sound of the quiet traffic that the wind occasionally brought in the direction of the cafe they stayed became the perfect soundtrack for the moment he was: trying to understand the last hour of the beginning of that morning.

At the table, in his hands has a cup of hot expresso, the smell of strong coffee helping his brain to stay awake. As fingers closed around the cup, his eyes raised to face the composer and conductor of the symphony that his ears heard at that moment.

' _Beautiful fingers_ ', he thought. Their owner drummed his fingers on the wood in an absent-minded manner close to the almost untouched cup of tea. With the body relaxed against the chair, Hakyeon watched the world outside which was slowly being painted in white by the falling snowflakes.

His way was elegant and Taekwoon could only describe as fascinating. He found the same kind of elegance on another person earlier in the morning but Hakyeon had something more. 

When Taekwoon earlier found himself facing a conversation that seemed like he shouldn't have heard, the other man watched him with a curious smile: There was malice, yes, but there was an interest and it said clearly ' _I know you and I know more than I seem to talk about you._ '

"Welcome back to the living." He said, putting his foot on the floor and adjusting himself in the chair he was sitting on. "Not that the ' _living_ ' is much better given how this world..."

"Jaehwan!" Hakyeon said, interrupting whatever was about to come out of that sentence.

"Ahh ..." Jaehwan put on an expression of contempt in his face and stood up. "Pay him coffee, Hakyeon. I'm leaving! After all my name is too important to throw like that at breakfast time.

' _His name was Jaehwan_.' Taekwoon thought silently. Like everything from the moment he opened his eyes to what appeared to be a common morning, the name echoed in his mind in a familiar yet strange way.

"And you ain't t going to do what I asked?" Hakyeon asked, disgusted.

"Of course I will. I already did, my friend." He walked over to Hakyeon, put his arm around his shoulders, brushed a speck of invisible dust off Hakyeon's shoulder and looked in Taekwoon's direction while speaking near Hakyeon's ear seductively. "A handsome, silent guy with eyes that have some sadness. Is that your type? I'm disappointed, I thought it was me." Jaehwan smiled and lowered his voice so that only Hakyeon could hear: "He's already lost a lot, Hakyeon. Don't make him lose his mental stability by talking about things he definitely shouldn't know."

Jaehwan patted Hakyeon lightly with a sign of comfort and apology in the same gesture before walking towards the exit with his hands in his pockets, chin raised and too proud to look back, letting Hakyeon and Taekwoon handling alone the situation between them.

_As always._

The silence stretched between them in the immense and decorated room, full of books and objects that seemed to have both acquisition and affective value for the owner who, in Taekwoon's eyes, was the same age as he. Taekwoon could spend most of the day around that place due to his interest, which in the end became his work.

"What do you work with, Taekwoon?" - Hakyeon's voice brought him back to the cafe, at his present life that wasn't, however much Taekwoon wanted, written in a book.

"Ah ..." Taekwoon gathered his thoughts to answer Hakyeon's question against those inquisitive, dark and interesting eyes in Taekwoon. This last part was a surprise. Very few were interested in someone with so many losses in such a short time if it weren't for showing some kind of pity that he didn't want or begged. "I'm a cafe... a small bookstore owner. Used or new books, webtoons or not ..."

"So ... do you usually give stories a second chance?" Hakyeon looked outside the window again.

' _Why he looking out for so much?_ ', Taekwoon wondered while looking in the direction that Hakyeon looked, but found nothing that could arouse such interest.

"Supposedly yes? Someone somewhere may need those words as I need someday. Perhaps the language is far-fetched, perhaps the story is not for that time, but I like to think that in six billion people in the world, someone needs it."

Hakyeon took the cup of tea, brought it to his lips, and looked towards Taekwoon with satisfaction. For a second, Taekwoon thought he saw stars shining in that pair of black eyes, but probably ... yeah, it must have been some light effect.

"It's an interesting line of thought." He put the drink on the table, Taekwoon observed the drink reflecting the snowflakes. Nothing special about that. "People often believe in the power of everything in the universe. Shooting stars, destiny, promises of little fingers crossed ...but they forget the power that some words spoken in the right moment, from the right person has."

"You look like a writer." Taekwoon concluded, "and very passionate about your work."

"I am ... I believe you can say that I am a writer. But I prefer the term _storyteller_. I like to tell stories and listen to it instead of recording them on paper."

Hakyeon smiled, a sweet smile that in other circumstances, Taekwoon might consider handsome and normal. And ... oh gods, are those ... _fangs_?

Taekwoon shook his head slightly, blinked and looked again at the smile on Hakyeon's face, opened his lips and closed while a question ( _did he have one?_ ) disappeared into thin air. _Normal_. _Normal_ teeth. Everything _normal_.

"I need to ask ..." Hakyeon started as if in doubt.

Taekwoon raised his eyebrows, lifted his chin and tilted his head, waiting for the question.

"What do you remember about last night?"

' _Oh!_ ', Taekwoon thought, ' _So that's the point of all this talk, isn't it?_ '

Taekwoon seemed to be chasing that moment and more it looked like a light on the horizon that as he approached it the more distant it became. His memories seemed to be there, but he couldn't make them into words. He opened his lips, magically waiting for the words to come out of his mouth, but all that came was silence. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and looked at Hakyeon.

"I remember ..." He sighed before continuing. "I remember the night. The night sky, to be more precise. It was cold and I was going home. I think I stopped at the bridge because I thought someone had fallen into the water and I was about to call 119." He stopped, took a deep breath before continuing. "And then I seemed to be facing the night somehow. I felt the cold, and I think I must have slipped or whatever because I fell into the river ..."

Hakyeon laughed softly.

"I saved you." He commented with a bit of relief in his voice. “You slipped off the bridge due to snow. Luckily for us, we didn't _exactly_ fall into the ice.

Putting both elbows on the table, he leaned his face on the hands that were together in front of him and curiously looked at Taekwoon: Taekwoon could have sworn, Hakyeon seemed to keep the whole night sky there in those eyes. "Maybe fate smiled at you last night. Maybe fate likes you... We'll know soon."

At that moment, Hakyeon's attention turned to the window. A dark and elegant car stopped in front of the establishment and seemed to be waiting for him who faced Taekwoon with a smile.

"It looks like our meeting will end sooner than expected. Forgive my manners in this regard." Hakyeon bowed his head in a sincere apology that Taekwoon believed was unnecessary. If anyone should apologize, it was him, so he thought.

Gracefully rising from the table, he stopped for a few seconds and admired Taekwoon subtly as if he expected something that didn't come. He was heading for the exit when he was pleased to hear the sweet words come out in a low, reserved tone from Taekwoon's lips.

"We should meet again."

Hakyeon stopped in his steps, turned around gracefully to face the devastating effect of those four words on a battlefield dominated by uncertainty and silence. It was a truce. Weapons lowered for seconds.

And that it was when Hakyeon accepted his defeat.

"Yes, we should. And we will. I'll stop by the bookstore sometime.

Hakyeon spoke with a smile on his lips that stayed until he got into the black car. He found Jaehwan sitting in the backseat next to him. His mood was bitter in the same second, the smile giving place into a nostalgic sigh.

"So? what did you end up doing?" Jaehwan asked. He wore a mask of indifference that well-concealed intentions that Hakyeon could never decipher until the last second. "Is he the one you looking for or just someone who looks the same?"

"You could say this to me, no? But I let him go," Hakyeon commented in a low and sad tone, " I didn't say anything and he doesn't remember anything about the last night. It didn't seem right, you know? I couldn't see a future at all. 30 years, 40 years ... If he were, I would be handing him over to the Court. If he weren't, I would be giving _myself_ over to the court."

Jaehwan raised an eyebrow slightly, astonished at Hakyeon's words. He felt sorry, too, but his role there wasn't to feel pity or any other feeling that might cloud his judgment and actions. And as in all the stories he read or participated in, he had his favourites in that one too, it was undeniable.

And yet, he let the silence grow heavier and heavier between the two of them as they approached the place that was their ultimate goal. The words left a bad taste in the mouth, a heaviness in the stomach, a state of submission that became stronger and stronger when the car stopped in front of the house. Jaehwan got out of the car quickly under the thought that the faster he starts, the faster he finish. Hakyeon would like to think in the same way. Through the window, he looked for a few seconds in the direction of the house, the architecture as a challenge against the pale winter sky.

When he left the car, he stood by Jaehwan's side for a few seconds, stopped, gathering courage and went on to enter the place.

To call the place _house_ is exaggerate the feeling of comfort and diminish its real characteristics: It was an old place, immense and lost between the woods that, for normal people would be nothing more than a pile of rotten wood calling for urban explorers to have a good photograph. For Jaehwan and Hakyeon the place was more. When opening the doors and entering the place, they crossed dimensions, space and time that could not be stuck in just one point. Here was where the Night Court meeting was held.

Hakyeon walked until the hall and looked around.

"Is everyone here?" He asked Jaehwan.

"I don't know everyone, but ..." Jaehwan looked in the direction of someone who was coming down the stairs. "Who interests me is. It's my cue to leave you alone. Weep for our separation, ”he raised a hand to his heart in a theatrical way and winked before walking away from Hakyeon. "But know that I will take you into my heart."

A smile appeared on Hakyeon's face as Jaehwan walked away and he found himself alone in the great hall with people who no longer looked at him as they should have looked. For a large part of those who were there, he was Cha Hakyeon, one of the court's enforcers, a lesser creature, a kind of vampire so old and unique that that should be the only reason for the Night to have him around the throne together with those other four.

But, he was something else.

Someone was walking down the hall with that drink so characteristic for the moment, serving small groups intoxicated with pleasure. The smell of it hit him like a punch, the tip of his tongue went to the tip of one of the sharp fangs in his mouth and if he had completely lost control, he would have taken a dose and made it go down his throat without any concern. Instead, he took several steps backwards, his feet leading to the furthest from that and led him into one of the rooms attached to the hall only to found himself in an immense library, his favourite place at the moment. 

Gracefully, he let his fingers slide through leather-bound books, written in several ancient languages or not, alive or not. The fangs were still there and he concentrated on the texture of the books felt there through his fingertips instead of the liquid so present in the other room. He took a book off the shelf and walked over to an armchair, sinking into it. As he opened the book, he brought two fingers to his left temple and gave himself up to the words written there.

It was an old story lost to many, but for him it was more precious drops than the bloody liquid that made his fangs appear. If he had access to all his power, that story present between his fingers would be a whole meal. Hunger nevermore would be a state of mind for him. Thinking about that made the fangs retreat.

“The first among the ancient gods was _Dream_. His smallest whisper could end wars and create new worlds. A single word could turn recrimination into glory ..."

The deep voice that recited those words startled Hakyeon. He knew them very well. His fingers moved away from the books and he looked in the direction of the voice.

" ... The sacred fire of his worship burned rare incense, while his altar dripped the blood of sacrifices that never dried." 

The voice took shape, a person emerging from behind a bookcase with a book in hand. He was a boy, looking younger than Hakyeon. Short black hair, delicate eyes on a face that exhibited a curiosity that passed between the book in hand and Hakyeon.

" You are new around here", Hakyeon said, "Or ... Maybe I didn't pay attention...forgi..." 

"I am. The boy showed his golden eyes to him. "I'm one of the Children of Moonlight, Kim Gunhak." 

"A pleasure to meet you. I am..." 

"Dream. Although you no longer use that alias and prefer Hakyeon, right?" 

"You shouldn't be talking out this so loud here." Hakyeon scolded him gently, speaking in a soft tone. "They say that Night cannot bear to hear the name of the Court's traitor under her roof."

"It's a good story. Six commanders of the night's troops decided to rebel against it in search of their power. The first one painted the dark sky with stars for humans to make requests, imagine and dream. Then, stories became the source of his power instead of blood and sacrifice."

" Gunhak! Gunhak!" they both heard someone calling the name out loud as if they were looking for it.

" I'm going!" He told to whoever was calling him. "I know the books are wrong. And now that I saw you in person, I understand how you led the revolution." He said quietly while bowed and left the room.

Hakyeon thought the whole situation was strange, but he couldn't help but smile. There were still some in that Court who saw him as more than just an enforcer or an old thing.


	3. You want it darker? ( We kill the flame )

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Nightmares exist outside of logic, and there's little fun to be had in explanations; they're antithetical to the poetry of fear.”_ \- Stephen King  
>   
> Taekwoon keeps dreaming about the weirdest things ever since he met Hakyeon. Many could say 'it just a dream', ' it's just a nightmare' but Taekwoon... Taekwoon thinks it's more.

That night, the dream started with darkness.

Sometimes it ended like that.

But that night, it started.

He was in a long corridor adorned with huge windows that stretched from floor to ceiling allowing him to see the sky outside painted in all the possible hues and colours that ran wild across the sky in the form of rivers of light that very much resembled the northern lights. The walls with their strange details in carved wood painted in gold reminded him of a palace, dimly illuminated by the light that passed through the windows and that mixed in their most diverse colours to illuminate Taekwoon and the floor.

Despite all the beauty, the world looked bad. In fact, the world didn't even look like the _world_. It made sense; in his real world, he definitely wouldn't have that sky above his head unless he was further north somewhere and not in South Korea. And he wouldn't be wearing those clothes either: they looked like royal clothes, it was something that didn't quite match well with the money Taekwoon has in his bank account at that time. A conclusion that only raised the question: _where was he?_

He’s sitting in a corridor with one arm resting on one knee and when he moved slightly, he felt his back resting against someone's back in a reflected position opposite him. His movements were slow and responded differently. There wasn’t reflex. There wasn’t spontaneity.

He didn't know if a heart was beating in his chest in that state and he didn't even feel confident to check it out. The other one leaned his head against Taekwoon and spoke in a low, sultry tone. He knew Taekwoon was there.

“You liked it?”

“Hm.” Taekwoon hummed, “They'll have nice things to look up when I will come. Create stories from a series of stars that are dying far away, make them believe that they mean something bigger and I’m not that scary at all...”

A sigh was the answer.

“Don't be so dramatic ...” the other said, “and they _are_ something bigger.

“The sky at the night is a graveyard.” Taekwoon said. “a beautiful graveyard. You can’t erase this fact.”

“It is, after all. It was the best I could do.”

“Hmm ... It's beautiful.”

The silence hung over them, broken only by a rumbling distant sound a brief moment later.

“It's time. They know about our betrayal ... And I can't let them get their hands on you.”

“They won’t. Take your weapons.” The words came out of Taekwoon's mouth. It took him two seconds to realize that it was he who was saying that all along. The one who was saying all that.

Taekwoon stood up in a strange grace that wasn’t common to him. That was when he heard the sound of heavy boots and armour coming from somewhere far down the hall.

“Go! Now!”

He looked over his shoulder and saw someone with silver hair, an outfit similar to his and then ran in the opposite direction to the sound, which at each step seemed to fill the corridor more and more.

One last look at the corridor that now lit up with the colours of the world outside before it disappeared seemed to fill his heart with a concern he shouldn't feel. Strange thinking: should he feel familiar with that? Was it a memory or a dream?

“And so is the night sky lit,” he heard the voice of the person who solemnly stood in the middle of the corridor, “with each step y'all take in this hall ...”

The corridor seemed to light up as the words invoked a series of small lights around the person.

“... Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting ...”

The hall lit up completely, and a long thin sword appeared in the person's hands but Taekwoon didn't want to know about the rest of it. He ran ... He ran through the darkness without a final destination. His feet should know the way through that place that was much more like an immense maze of corridors.

The last thing he heard sounds made the darkness around hummed:

“... I have brought chaos to this order and doom upon all this known world.”

Those words were in Taekwoon's ears a sweet confession of the crime committed.

It was ended in a soothing sigh, swallowed by the sound of a battle. A lull for the beginning of a storm.

Taekwoon stumbled into the darkness alone wherever he was on that eerie night and heard noises that resembled the sound of one sword blade against other, explosions and screams.

The noise startled him. But he wanted to walk and move on anyway, opening doors and letting his fingers slide over the wall of the corridors he left behind until he found himself in a room that resembled an old empty laboratory.

As he walked into the room, he did it slowly as a man who got used to an undue situation would do, after a few days indoctrinated to be conscious during lucid dreams brought consequences based on an instinctive adaptation. He had learned a few tricks in the process. When he was in danger or when he felt that waking up to the real world was less dangerous or frightening than staying in that state, he would stand still and concentrate. And then he would repeat the words to himself as some kind of litany:

_“ I want to wake up ... I want to wake up ... wake up ...”_

It was a reliable and immediate device. No matter how bad the situation was, by concentrating and repeating these words, in a short time, everything became cloudy, fading, and the senses returned to the physical body in the world that he thought he knew. That night, he could have used such a device. But then, who knows why he still didn't want to wake up. He wanted to explore that eerie strange and opulent new world. In the background, the noise of an invasion of what he believed to be soldiers continued. The room fell silent when he closed the doors behind him. Moving away from it, he walked to the middle of the room where there was a strange machine on top of a small decorated round wooden table.

It was in this way, under these conditions, that he saw the place where he was.

It was a kind of bedroom, except that there wasn't exactly a bed. There were empty walls around the table except for strange drawings in a language that, like everything there, seemed to be familiar at the same time not while on the far wall an old piano rested. Red candles that gathered in the corners in puddles of scented waxes with a so small light didn't seem to break the darkness at all. Meanwhile, the doors behind him seemed to be a barrier even against the sound and caused the sound outside the room to echo softly and get lost in the space of the corridors left behind.

Screams. A sinister laughter could be heard somewhere and was approaching him for sure. He walked towards the machine without knowing exactly how it worked, but somehow the object called for him.

It was an old golden brass strange orrery and it felt warm to the touch. There were glyphs of the same language found on the wall adorning the base of the object and glowing in the low light of the place. At the touch of Taekwoon, a static sound was heard, a low hum and the machine started to work illuminating the room and transforming it into a planetarium, the stars being projected on the walls, clear constellations and many of them lost in time compared to modern astronomical systems. In the distance, a laugh.

And that laugh _twisted_ his spine.

Still, he remained there in the room, contemplating everything that was projected and even more so the strange object that his fingers still touched.

And then, he heard whispers, several voices at the same time that most resembled the breaking of ocean waves on the beach. Angry words that took shape and colour in his ears if he could pay attention properly.

And he saw it.

The view of what happened at first was a little shocking. He was in a long hall with a throne made of bones in the dais. The place seemed abandoned, left for ghosts and walls that seemed to whisper about the fact that Taekwoon is there. He walked towards the throne while something hidden in the shadows seemed to ask himself "What is he doing here?"

What scared him most was seeing himself sitting on the throne, the same and different him at the same time. The hands of that other Taekwoon rested on the throne of white, dry bones and the hair was in a tone that was not far from their colour. His closed eyes seemed to sleep soundly at peace and he could believe that this was true if it weren't for the chains around his neck and wrists or the swords embedded in his body.

It made Taekwoon remember some Tarot card, but he wasn’t someone who knew too much about tarot to remember exactly what card was.

“Who is that?”, Taekwoon's voice broke the distance between him and the throne. It was extremely uncomfortable to see "yourself" there in that way.

In answer, he heard only a piano note that brought him back to the room where he was. His fingers breaking the touch from the machine, the heat was too much for him to maintain contact. The piano, previously closed, lay open. And the Taekwoon of the vision stared at him, hands resting against the table separated only by the machine between them.

“ _You ask who is that?_ ”, a small smile shows in his face, “ _I'm part of you. Just need to recognise that by saying yes..."_

“And what do I get?”, Taekwoon asked.

" _More than you think ..._ "

Taekwoon leaned a little, faced the other with a challenge placed in the look that he would hardly put in the real world. But that was a dream, wasn't it? He could do more than in the real world and no one would know. He licked his lips and pretended to think of the answer he would give.

“No.”He laughed softly then, leaving a smile on his face.

“I won’t insist on now ... But like everything in this world, _it will have an echo_.”

And he laughed. It was from this Taekwoon with an almost white hair that the sinister laugh came.

_The damn sinister laugh_.

A hand reached out towards Taekwoon's face, icy fingers drawing the line of his jaw. 

“ _I'm coming for you._ ”

That was when he heard the noise. It was loud, repetitive and intense. It was the sound of something falling against the floor: dry, heavy. Something hitting the walls.

Several of it. Soon he found himself alone. That other Taekwoon had left him there at the mercy of those who were opening the bedroom door and he found himself overwhelmed by fear and anticipation of what would come next. It was as if he knew all of it and that conclusion hurt his heart.

Outside, footsteps could be heard. They approached, allied to an unknown language, getting closer and closer making an uncomfortable sound. Sounds of boots. Sounds of boots stepping in the wood floor. Every sound seemed much higher, much more exaggerated. His body ignored his thoughts. He tried to speak, but his voice was silent.

Suddenly, his nervous system simply disobeyed him. Taekwoon just knew they were getting closer. Closer and closer.

The door opened and he just saw someone being thrown against the floor next to him while someone dressed in black military clothes walked behind and entered the room.

"Oh my... _Dearest_ Hakyeon. Look who we have here.” The voice of the unknown man dressed in black spoke. “Look on the bright side, you can say goodbye to him before you leave.”

Hakyeon? , Taekwoon thought.

The man who fell to the ground stood up as he could and went to his knees before him. It was Hakyeon and there was no elegance in his actions, only fury. His blood-stained face and the clothes he wore were full of scratches. His arms were held, pulled back by two soldiers who accompanied the unknown man. Someone approached Taekwoon and hit him on the knee with a strange sword, causing Taekwoon to kneel in front of Hakyeon.

That was the only move he could make and again it seemed to be something involuntary and mechanical. Suddenly, if before it responded slowly, his body didn’t respond anymore. He knew what was coming next. He knew what would happen. And he was terrified. He tried to scream. He tried to cry.

That was when he realized he was helpless and, at that moment, how much he wanted to wake up.

He didn't care about the pain in his knee, that was nothing. He just wanted to get away with Hakyeon. Any place far from that reality.

“I give you the benefit of one last kiss, Hakyeon. Many traitors did not even benefit from the last word.”

Hakyeon snorted. He laughed defiantly, even with the corners of his mouth smeared with blood, even with his cut lip or the bruise above his brow, he kept furious, with pride in his eyes. Taekwoon could have sworn he saw all the stars burning at once in those eyes that now stared at him.

"I think the others have failed to create a rebellion better than mine. I will be remembered in history for that.”

The unknown man punched Hakyeon's face. Eyes closing because of the pain.

"You should respect the night ..."

“Respect _you_? No more...”

Hakyeon turned to look at Taekwoon, a passionate smile appeared on his lips.

“We'll meet again, I swear.”

Taekwoon closed his eyes at the moment that the sword that _Night_ was carrying went through Hakyeon's chest. He didn't want to see the body fall, he didn't want to see the blood paint the floor in front of him. It was when he wished to wake up so ardently, that the world became cloudy. Little by little, he was feeling the senses returning to the physical body. The sound of the world was increasing in volume. The soul and the body merged again into a single force. Muffled, however, in the background, he swore that he could still hear that sinister laugh.

The nefarious sinister laugh.

Taekwoon woke up in his bed sweating, with his breathing hitched and his sense of balance distorted. Outside, the snow was still falling and with a racing heart, he looked at the phone next to the bed trying to see the hour and thanked any god around for the blessed free will that gave him the option to wake up. For Jung Taekwoon was sure that, like any other dreamer, he could suddenly wake up from an occasional nightmare, even though those nightmares seemed to drag him deeper and deeper.

No matter how dark such daily dreams were, his greatest conflict went further. His biggest problem was being conscious in every single hell of dream in his last three weeks.

Such dreams was become increasingly darker.

And in many of them, _Hakyeon_ appears.

And each night proves even more difficult to wake up from them.


End file.
